Children of Winter
by KatTheElf
Summary: Three simple words can stall the sorest of storms and demolish the glacier that often finds its rest in the heart of man.


Children of Winter

A shiver traveled up Astoria's leg when her toes met the stone floor. She had been determined to relax—to allow each inhale of fragrant rose petal wash over her mind, as the water washed over her body. After drying herself, she massaged her skin over with a special moisturizing potion and donned her new lacy lingerie.

In the mirror, she studied her reflection with a sense of pride. She was fierce as a creature of the night, charged for the attack. She would conquer and quench her thirst for sensual intoxication. She would bring him to his knees to beg for her mercy. She would prove—once and for all-that she was to be desired above all others, and he would bow to her.

But this was only one part of herself . . . The one she was trying desperately to ignore.

As she stared at her lightly tanned body in the mirror, she wondered if she really was good enough. Could one who had, for so long, failed to know the meaning of love ever hope to share it with another? And, if so, would it be strong enough to meet the pain-tinged affections of a kindred spirit?

Not knowing the answer, but knowing she was keeping her new husband waiting, Astoria took one more deep breath and pressed through the bathroom door.

Draco, who sat on the edge of the bed—already in his underwear—nearly jolted out of his skin when he heard the door swing open. Attempting to calm himself, he took a deep breath into his nostrils, though this did nothing to help as he inhaled the fragrance of those damned roses.

He could sense Astoria's approach. Her smooth complexion brightened the corner of his eye. His face pinkened as more steps further signaled her nearness. At previous moments, he had chuckled at this occurrence, for Astoria was the only woman he had ever known to transform his alabaster cheeks to a smitten pink.

He wanted her body terribly. The agony of his longing wracked through him when he imagined what was to take place. As a man, it pained him to pause and recall the reason for his previous apprehension: This would have been so much simpler had it been all about taking a body . . . But the fact of the matter remained that this body belonged to an actual human being—a person with thoughts, feelings, desires, and needs of her own. The night was complicated by this very fact. And yet, if not for this fact, Draco would not have been sitting there at all.

Astoria now stood before him, gazing down at his long, sinewy form, his snowy hair shimmering as he returned her gaze from beneath. Without much thought, she reached down to run her fingers through it. Though this was a habit of hers, she still wondered how a man's hair could be so sleek and soft and fine—like gossamer.

Realizing her action, she smiled inside herself, comforted by the memories of a private fantasy conjured in her own mind. Months before, when she had first uncovered her feelings for Draco, she had imagined him as being some sort of angel who had lost his way and fallen in the snow. And though this fantasy was of a fleeting nature, one night, just after kissing him, she mistakenly bid him farewell with the slip of the words "Snow Angel". He had appeared perplexed as she walked away. And still, she had yet to divulge her secret.

Astoria returned to the present when a tender touch stopped her in what she was doing. She noted the silent fervor in her lover's expression as he pressed her palm into his shoulder. With both arms, he gently pulled her into his lap. She could not help but shudder with delight when she took in a breath of him. As he held her tightly, she marveled at the warmth of his pale body—all the inner workings, the pulsing veins, and the deftly twitching muscles. She felt it at his core and in his lips as he pressed a line of kisses across her chest . . . and one sweet surprise deep in the crook of her neck, at which point her lashes swept back a sparkling bliss. Finally, Draco beckoned her face to his.

"Astoria, is something the matter?"

These were the first words uttered by Draco upon release.

Astoria had a mind to lie and answer, "No," but knew that those stormy-grey eyes had already flashed right through her. Besides this, there was her half-hearted kiss as evidence.

"Let's not worry with it now, Draco," she replied with a false smile. "It's our wedding night and I don't want to spoil it for you."

Draco swiftly snatched her hand, which she had just suggestively lain upon his chest. As she had been averting her eyes, she was surprised to meet a calm expression.

"Astoria," he spoke her name as though it were a wisp of air—just the way she loved to hear it. "Have you no idea how much I am blessed by your being here?"

She blinked her dark eyes at him, puzzled by what he had just expressed.

Draco rose, gently setting her on the bed before padding over to the window set in silver by moonlight. For a moment, he stared up at the great orb in the sky, gathering just the right words to explain the silent truth writhing in his heart.

"Astoria," he began, voice slightly shaking, as he turned to face his wife once more, "When I was a child, I admired many people-people who seemed so perfect and to know what was important—and sought only to emulate them in any way I could. I strived so hard to earn their good favour. This affected not only my behavior towards others but also the interests I had, the friends I chose, and even the girls I dated... This was before I realized that they were not all so perfect after all."

He paused to stare at a moonlit spot on the floor for a moment before returning to Astoria's side.

"This was all before I met you."

Draco turned his head to look Astoria straight in the eyes.

"Astoria, you- you have changed everything. You are the first person with whom I have ever—with my whole heart—known I wanted to be. It's not because my parents approve of you. It's not because they disapprove of you. It's because, when I'm around you, I feel like—well—," He chuckled, nervously casting his gaze away for a moment, "it frightened me nearly to death the first time I felt it. No one had ever made me feel that way—feel so much—before, and I have major doubts that anybody else ever could."

At this point, Draco Surrounded Astoria with his arms and held her head to his chest. By the rhythm of his heart, the gentle brush of his hands, and the quiver in his voice, she could tell that he was fighting back tears. And, yet, he continued.

"Astoria, if it were not for you, I would still be alone. Even if I had married someone else, I would still be alone."

He held her face so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes with her own. It was at this moment that Astoria noted something very dark and very deep. It was fragmented and intricate, splintering off in innumerable directions. It was attached to Draco's soul—digging inside of it! Whatever it was, it was hurting him and she wanted it to go away.

"Astoria, please tell me what is wrong!"

As she fell into him, she also fell into a fit of weeping. Despite Draco's attempts to wipe it all away, it simply would not cease. And so, as he tightly embraced her, the hot tears rained down his chest. For a moment—just a moment—he mistook the running sensation as his own blood.

"I AM SO AFRAID!"

Draco caressed his weeping bride's shoulders to soothe her, genuinely confused by her outburst.

"What are you afraid of?" he mildly questioned.

Instead of responding with an answer, Astoria released more heavy sobs at her husband's chest.

"Astoria, what are you afraid of?" he repeated.

Astoria let out a few more sobs before slowly sitting up, struggling to swallow her emotions.

"Draco," she began, finally looking at him on her own, "I don't know. I don't know what it is I am afraid of. I just cannot shake this sense of dread. I do not know how to stop it. I wish it would all go away. I just— "

Her strained cries were swallowed when Draco took her under the waves of a kiss. He took her so deep that she not only forgot to breathe but forfeited the need for doing so. As the two went deeper, Astoria felt as though she were being lifted by the gathering of tiny bubbles inside her chest. Neither wished to let go, holding on for dear life, but they finally pushed through the surface to relish in ecstatic trauma.

"Astoria, I understand," Draco gasped with the beginnings of a sincere smile, tenderly caressing her tiny hands in his own. "Just let go. I know you are afraid, and it is okay. This may be difficult, but we can rely on each other. Just trust me, Astoria. I trust you."

Draco beamed brightly as he gently tousled her hair. Astoria, warmed by the glow in those wintry eyes, returned a smile as a signal of fear's yielding hold. She knew he was about to kiss her again but, before he could, she had one thing to say.

"Draco," she stalled him with her finger.

"Yes?" he replied patiently.

"I love you."

Shocked and taken aback, but brilliantly so. It was the first time he had ever heard her say it, but her brown eyes had been clear and bright. She meant it, and he knew it. Nevertheless, it stopped him dead in his tracks, the echo of those three simple words jittering madly in his brain. Then, the earth fell silent, save the red-hot vigor pulsing within.

"Astoria," he managed to roll forth from his heaving chest.

"Yes?"

"I love you, too."

With that, the two lunged with such ferocity that it was a miracle either survived the other. In a flurry, all of the cold stillness was cleared away to exhume vibrant colours long hidden away from the outside world. Perhaps, one day, they would be known to all. Perhaps they wouldn't. Perhaps it did not matter at all.

Two lost souls had found the shades of summer, and that made for a good beginning.

All through the night, they shared more and more, delving into more living secrets long thought deadened by time's permeating chill.

They were as the sun and the moon, making wordless promises of dusk and dawn.

They were as children, dissipating the frost in which they played.

They were as master architects, forming shapes with the sky, and in their very hands!

But mostly

They were as two melting into one like sleet on the tongue.

When it all was over-but never really over-and the sun streamed through the window, casting its magnificent light on the dusky floor and grey walls, making everything beautiful, its shimmer did not attempt to evade its duty to bless the young couple lying together in the bed.

Draco, who had been the first to wake, was spellbound by the witch who had cast his heart from its frozen depths. He, though the clever wizard who had not released her all the night, acknowledged that he had not the ability to ever let her go. She was his freedom and he wished nothing more than to guard her for always.

As he was further warmed by the sight of the sun breaking upon the rosy cheeks of the darling in his arms, he knew that he could break through his own stagnancy and into a new season.

All the while, despite that providence of choice, there remained a single, profound part of him that desperately longed to be frozen—in that moment—forever.


End file.
